Category Archives: memes

Here’s an atheist meme I picked up on Adopt-An-Atheist who credits The Friendly Atheist Site. I’ve done it more because I’m interested in how others will reply than because I think you give a flying-meatball about my beliefs. But here, for the little it’s worth is

The Atheist Quiz

Have you ever…

Participated in the Blasphemy Challenge? – No – but one of my favourite jokes has the punchline – “Are you kidding….? I went there 2000 years ago, got some bird pregnant and they’re still talking about it!” If that’s not denial of the holy spirit, what is? My big sis said that the sin against the holy ghost is usually thought to be bestiality, but I’m not sure how they work that out. I’ve not notched that one up either.

Said “Gesundheit!” (or nothing at all) after someone sneezed because you didn’t want to say “Bless you!”? – No. And I tend to say “Bless me” rather plaintively after I sneeze. Pavlov’s got a lot to answer for.

Have ever chosen not to clasp your hands together out of fear someone might think you’re praying? – Eh?

Have turned on Christian TV because you needed something entertaining to watch? – N-n-no. Though I have played follow-the-fundy on YouTube.

Are a 2nd or 3rd (or more) generation atheist? – My father and great-grandfather were clergymen. So that’ll be a ‘no’ then.

Have “atheism” listed on your Facebook or dating profile — and not a euphemistic variant? – Oh, I don’t know. I think I don’t list it one way or the other.

Written a letter-to-the-editor about an issue related to your non-belief in God? – No. But I did write a chunk of the Wikipedia entry on the atheist bus campaign.

Gave a friend or acquaintance a New Atheist book as a gift? – “The Selfish Gene” doesn’t count, presumably. Call that a “no”.

Wear pro-atheist clothing in public? – No. But then I don’t wear any slogans in public.

Have invited Mormons/Jehovah’s Witnesses into your house specifically because you wanted to argue with them? – No. One and only precious lifetime. Not going to spend it arguing about something that doesn’t exist.

Have been physically threatened (or beaten up) because you didn’t believe in God? – No.

Receive Google Alerts on “atheism” (or variants)? – No.

Received fewer Christmas presents than expected because people assumed you didn’t celebrate it? – No. I actually don’t celebrate it when I’m single, only when I’m in a relationship with someone who does. I find it bemusing and rather sweet that people give me presents.

Visited The Creation Museum or saw Ben Stein’s Expelled just so you could keep tabs on the “enemy”? – No

Refuse to tell anyone what your “sign” is… because it doesn’t matter at all? – No. Confirmation bias and expectations theory have made me an absolutely typical Aries. Little sheep that I am. Baa-aaa-aaa.

Are on a mailing list for a Christian organization just so you can see what they’re up to? – Do I look like someone who gives a bleep?

Have kept your eyes open while you watched others around you pray? – No. I still bob to the knees when I sit down in Church. Pavlov again. It stops other people chatting to me and lets me focus on why I’m there – wedding, funeral, whatever.

Avoid even Unitarian churches because they’re too close to religion for you? – Eh?

And just so you know how you fare, here’s a scale to rank yourself (adapted from Darwin’s Dagger’s suggestions):

0-10: Impressive, but not too far from agnosticism.
11-20: You are, literally, a “New Atheist.” But you now have something to strive for! Go for the full 50!
21-30: You are an atheist, but babies aren’t running away from you. Yet.
31-40: You are the 5th Horseman! Congratulations!
41-50: PZ Myers will now be taking lessons from you.

Started my own blog – Er, you’re reading it. I’ve also started one in my own name on the wonderweb and one in my own name at work. Which is why I’m posting here so much less often and so many of the posts are memes.

Slept under the stars – Don’t think so. In tents and barns and things, but not under the stars.

Played in a band – Be glad, be very glad that I haven’t.

Visited Hawaii – No. I do like islands, but prefer them in more northerly climes. Shetland. Orkney. The occasional Hebridee.

Given more than I can afford to charity – No. Yes. The Atheist Bus, since you ask.

Been to Disneyland/world – In no circumstances.

Climbed a mountain – What counts as a mountain? Technically yes, in that I’ve progressed vertically under my own propulsion above 1000′ but actually no.

Held a praying mantis – No. Tarantulas and snakes yes. Mantises, not yet.

Sung a solo – See 3 above.

Bungee jumped – Absolutely not. Far too fond of my spine.

Visited Paris – Worked there, but not done the tourist thing. It’s a town. Don’t like towns.

Watched a lightning storm at sea – Yes. I watched the Newhaven ferry racing the lightning strikes into harbour. Fun.

Taught myself an art from scratch – May mentioned poetry here, so I think I will too.

Adopted a child – No.

Had food poisoning – No.

Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty – It’s in America. It’s in a city. It’s in an American City. So that’ll be a No then.

Grown my own vegetables – Yes, not many and not successfully, but yes.

Seen the Mona Lisa in France – No. Paris. Cities. No.

Slept on an overnight train – Yes, on the train up to the Ice Hotel in Sweden, and incredibly exciting trips to Scotland and back when I was a wee snippet of a blogling.

Had a pillow fight – Yep. Sisters, brothers, boarding school.

Hitchhiked – No.

Taken a sick day when you’re not ill – No. Not capable of the necessary lies.

Built a snow fort – Surprisingly, no.

Held a lamb – Probably. But my grandma used to keep goats, and I’ve certainly held and fed kids. They are wildly enthusiastic for food and their tails rotate like helicopter blades. Enchanting, even after decades.

Gone skinny dipping – Yes.

Run a marathon – No.

Ridden in a gondola in Venice – No, though Venice is on my long-list of places to go.

Seen a total eclipse – Twice. Or been there while they were happening behind clouds, anyway. Cornwall in 1999 and Ceduna in 2002. Hope to go to Cairns in 2012 if I can get the cash together.

Watched a sunrise or sunset – More times than you can shake a stick at. I was born on the Cotswold escarpment with views westwards over the Severn estuary into Wales and beyond. In the winter the sun would set early and to the right, in the summer, it would set late and to the left. It’s given me a need to live with distant horizons ever since. My current horizon is a cozy mile away. I like air.

Hit a home run – No

Been on a cruise – No

Seen Niagara Falls in person – No.

Visited the birthplace of my ancestors – I was born in the birthplace of my ancestors – or in the same house that my grandmother was born in, anyway.

Seen an Amish community – No

Taught myself a new language – No

Had enough money to be truly satisfied – Yes. It was nice while it lasted, and it’s left me with a sense of deep gratitude that I can pay my bills even if I cannot afford frivolities.

Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person – Yes. Disturbing, like something designed by MC Escher. But smaller than you’d expect.

Gone rock climbing – No, just sea-side stuff as a child.

Seen Michelangelo’s David – Yes. And the waiter at one of the nearby restaurants was a dead ringer; those Etruscan genes are strong.

Sung karaoke – See 3 above.

Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt – No.

Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant – No.

Visited Africa – No.

Walked on a beach by moonlight – Probably. I’ve seen a lot of moonlight and I’ve walked on a fair few beeches. And as I’ve mentioned recently (was it here?) a favourite activity is driving by moonlight with the lights off. The moon must be high and at the correct angle to slightly damp straight lanes. Oh, and I turned my lights off once on the M50, but it was Christmas Evening and there was no one, but No One but No One there apart from me.

Been transported in an ambulance – No.

Had my portrait painted – No.

Gone deep sea fishing – No

Seen the Sistine Chapel in person – No.

Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris – See 12.

Gone scuba diving or snorkelling – Yes, in Trinidad, or was it Tobago, visiting my sister.

Kissed in the rain – Yes. Snogged like a cheap movie in the Tottenham Court Road in one of those downpours where the sky simply spills itself onto the ground below like a torn tarpaulin. We even had a begger come up and say “you make a lovurr-ly couple”. That was the sum of our romantic encounter, but hey.

Played in the mud – That is what mud was for when I was little.

Gone to a drive-in theatre – No.

Been in a movie – Oh, surprisingly, Yes. Well, a made for tv special. They filmed Cider with Rosie in our part of the Cotswolds and recruited yokels to turn up at the village fete. Enormous fun.

Visited the Great Wall of China – Yes.

Started a business – Yes. And ran it for 8 years. I had employees and everything.

Taken a martial arts class – Tai Chi in Glasgow really should count: none of that “imagine a ball of shining light” crap. This was “Ye’ve got hiss elbow in one hand and hiss rist in th’other”.

Visited Russia – No

Served at a soup kitchen – No.

Sold Girl Scout Cookies – No.

Gone whale watching – No.

Got flowers for no reason – For myself, every week in the summer. For others, whenever it seems good.

Donated blood, platelets or plasma – I have been turned down on five separate occasions for five separate reasons. (Had a cold too recently, had acupuncture, they wanted to go home, just come back from abroad, not had enough breakfast). There’s only so much rejection a girl can take so after that I thought “fuck this for a game of soldiers” and kept my blood to myself.

Gone sky diving – Absolutely not.

Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp – No. I should have done and I could have done, I could have gone to Dachau when I worked in Munich and I knowingly and consciously bottled out.

Bounced a check – Not that I can remember.

Flown in a helicopter – Yes. Took a helicopter flight with my Big Bro over the 12 Apostles in Australia. Here. See. Look at the nice photies. Oh, and I read that as “Flown a helicopter” to which the answer is no, but I did stop learning to fly because I enjoyed spinning the plane too much. I realised that here was a sport that could kill me. And a friend let me have a go in one of the flight simulators at Heathrow, so I’ve landed a 737 there, in theory at least. It wasn’t a bad landing but the best Best BEST bit was destroying Terminal 3 by taxi-ing through it. Deep joy.

Eaten caviar – Not sure. You’re never entirely sure if it’s yer-actual caviar at these things or not.

Pieced a quilt – No.

Stood in Times Square – No.

Toured the Everglades – No.

Been fired from a job – No. Though I’ve been ‘let go’ a couple of times. And that is most certainly a possibility again.

Seen the Changing of the Guards in London – No.

Broken a bone – Not a one.

Been on a speeding motorcycle – Yes.

Seen the Grand Canyon in person – No. The best thing I can do here is quote May: “Have not been to States. Have you seen the Giant’s Causeway? Helvellyn? The Kyles of Bute? Trafalgar Square? Lavenham? Edinburgh Castle? The walls of York? Wells Cathedral? No? Why ever not?”

Published a book – No.

Visited the Vatican – No.

Bought a brand new car – No. Though I’ve had some rather nice second hand ones.

Walked in Jerusalem – No.

Had my picture in the newspaper – Yes.

Read the entire Bible – No. But I bet I know it better than you do.

Visited the White House – See 79.

Killed and prepared an animal for eating – Yes. Rabbits. We used to pick ’em off with a .22 with a silencer and telescopic sights. Hard to imagine just how illegal that would be these days.

Had chickenpox – Yep. I only have one scar, on my sacrum. Impressive self-control that. I picked it up aged 17 from the nasty little boys in the prep-school were I was undermatroning at the time.

Saved someone’s life – No.

Sat on a jury – No – but would be fascinated to do so.

Met someone famous – Arnie, once, in a tiny airfield in the middle of the Arizona desert. Yes, I have been to the US, but not much and not far and not for long.

The instinct to answer the question “is the glass half full or half empty” with “Who cares! There’s room for another one in there!”

More simply, I’d rather be happy than sad: I’m glad I can pay my bills instead of being unhappy that I can’t buy the geegaws; I’m pleased that no-one was hurt instead of being angry that thieves wrote off my car.

What good gift do you wish she’d given you instead?

The ability to thrive on four hours’ sleep a night. 20 hours of alert and functional time every day – now that would be a gift worth having.

What bad gift did the wicked Fairy Give you?

Fat ankles. I’ve never really forgiven the universe for that.

What bad gift do you wish she’d given you instead?

The wit of Mae West – I’ve been trying to work out what she’d say here.

And finally: if you could have one magical item, what would it be?

A house that never needed cleaning.

So there you go – the Fairy godmother meme is my seasonal gift to the wonderweb.

Kelli doesn’t blog, which is a shame. She’d post grounded and well-informed posts about whatever her project was at the time – currently motherhood, which has occasionally been difficult, and pregnancy.

2. Has number 10 taken any pictures that have moved you? (Anticant)

Not that I am aware of, but I’m charmed by the portrait of him as a mouse elegantly ensconced in a wing chair wearing a paisley silk dressing gown with a smoking hat and pince nez, reading a book.

3. Does number 6 reply to comments on their blog? (Alfster)

Alas, Alfster is another of my visitors who does not blog.

4. Which part of blogland is number 2 from? (Healing Magic Hands)

She’s in “A medium size town in Missouri” and – if she will forgive me for saying so – she’s from somewhat left of the field, having a labyrinth and a river and a great openness and warmth for people.

5. If you could give one piece of advice to number 7 what would it be? (Son of Roj Blake)

Ooooh. It’s tempting to say “Don’t be a stranger”. He’s always ignored my advice in the past and I’m not aware that he needs any now. On the other hand it’s also tempting to say “take Jesus into your heart as a friend” simply to see the steam come out of his ears.

6. Have you ever tried something from number 9’s blog? (Omega Mum)

Nn…no. Her blog is more of an Awful Warning than a source of useful Hints and Tips. The Awful Warning that springs to mind at the moment is don’t go cycling commando.

7. Has number 1 blogged something that inspired you? (Reed)

Her use of language. Her sense of humour. The letters after her name. Her sheer bloody bravery under fire. Yes. Here, for fun, is a post from last year about the crack in the floor at the Tate.

8. How often do you comment on number 4’s blog? (Creig Buchannah)

Never at all. His post was spam. However I dislike revisionism so I tend to simply remove the links and leave the comments. Besides which there was something about the combination of literacy, unfamiliarity with the language leaps of illogic and non-sequiteurs that appealed to me.

9. Do you wait for number 8 to post excitedly? (Paul)

Paul drifted in, didn’t leave a link, and drifted out again. I don’t know him from Adam. Or Eve. Or Kissmequick.

I’ve met Reed on several occasions, and adored her every time. I danced at Kelli’s wedding. Alfster and the Son of Roj Blake weeded my allotment in exchange for a round or two of allotment golf. And Verbosity, too, I know, not to mention the Star who I met while he was still a bump. So yes.

12. Do any of your 10 bloggers know each other in person?

Alfster and the Son of Roj Blake go way back. Two bodies, one mind. Reed and Verbosity I know are close and dear friends in real life as well as on the internets. Reed has met the Hairy Farmer Family, to my enduring envy. Kelli knows Reed, Verbosity, and the Son of Roj Blake, but probably not Alfster.

Look, shall I draw you a diagram?

13. Out of the 10, which updates more frequently?

Oh, I’m not sure. None of them enough for me.

14. Which of the 10 keep you laughing?

All of them. And crying too.

15. Which of the 10 has made you cry (good or bad tears)?

See above.

PS – Interesting that the meme assumes that all commentators are bloggers. And interesting that so many of mine are not.

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The Singing Librarian has tagged me to tell y’all six of my unspectactular quirks. This is harder than it seems. I rather like showing off (who’d’a thunk?) so while it would be a pleasure to produce spectactular quirks, unspectacular ones require much more application and effort.

While I rather like things to be tidy, I’m far less bothered about them being clean. Your immune system – use it or lose it! I’m well socialised so I do wash, but my tolerance for dirt is distressingly high. Well, distressing to other people.

I like jargon. So much of it is clever or funny or both, and there are times when jargon expresses ideas more concisely than simpler language. However, I do admit that some people use jargon as a substitute for thought, and I have a long term project to teach myself to write more simply.

Ah Ha! Let’s make that #3: I have a long term project to teach myself to write more simply. It’s much harder than it looks, writing simply. I don’t know if I will ever master it. It’s taking its time: at school I relished the discipline of clawing the meaning out of a piece of writing and turning it into a lucid and logical precis, and the main reason that I still blog is the writing practice it gives me.

I always wear black underwear. About 12 or 15 years ago I experienced severe social anguish in the dressing room of a health club when a svelt and glamorous woman donned her svelt and glamorous undies and I realised that my un-matching bra and knickers were socially SO-o-o-o inept. Ever since then I’ve only ever bought and worn black undies. Not sets – I’m too mean for that. Just black, and hoped they match. This is certainly a quirk, and I am far too un-svelt for my knicker choices to be spectacular.

I have three browsers on my PC: Google Chrome, which I am using right now and which I like apart from the lack of a spell-checker; Firefox, which I like but which eats system resources, and IE6 which I don’t like because it doesn’t do tabs. IE7 trashed my PC, so I trashed it.

I’ve just been to Shetland for a holiday. Actually, I think that is rather spectacular, and I’ll write about it next week as simply as I can.

The rules of this meme are as follows:

1. Link to the person who tagged you. – Check
2. Mention the rules. – Check
3. Tell six unspectacular quirks of yours. – Check
4. Tag six bloggers by linking. – Ah, I feel suddenly shy about this so I am going to invite you to tag yourself.
5. Leave a comment for each blogger.
6. There is no sixth rule, but I agree with the Singing Librarian who things that there should be.

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I was surprised how few of these I’ve eaten – only 49 of the 100. On the other hand, it has a slightly North American in flavour – there’s brands here that aren’t that represented in Europe. I was therefore surprised to discover the list was created by a Brit. The discovery’s put me in a slightly better mood about the whole thing.

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

1. Venison – yes, mainly in Sweden, well, rude not to2. Nettle tea – yes, though I prefer tea tea3. Huevos rancheros – no – I’m a European so that’s through lack of opportunity more than anything else4. Steak tartare – yes – I do rather like the flavour of raw meat – carpaccio’s a favourite too5. Crocodile – no – I’ve never been anywhere where crocodile is part of the cuisine and I’m not that fond of novelty meats such as kangaroo and ostrich in places where they aren’t part of the heritage, like the uK6. Black pudding – yes – an English Breakfast’s not complete without it
7. Cheese fondue – yes8. Carp – no – I’m not sufficiently fond of fish to try carp in a restaurant, though I’d be happy to eat it if it was served by a friend9. Borscht – yes10. Baba ghanoush – yes – I had to look it up, but it turns out I have eaten it – it’s seasoned aubergine dip or spread and I do love Lebanese food11. Calamari – yes12. Pho – no, but only through lack of opportunity, I cannot think of a single Vietnamese restaurant that I’ve come across outside London, though I do hope there are some in Manchester and places like that13. PB&J sandwich – no – Peanut butter and jam sandwiches? – I am not a teenager – I feel no need to eat this14. Aloo gobi – yes
15. Hot dog from a street cart – yes, mainly in Sweden16. Epoisses – probably not, though going from the picture, it’s a ‘maybe’17. Black truffle – no – not sure if I’ve had truffle flavoured oil or truffle scented something18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes – yes, but not very willingly19. Steamed pork buns – I’m not sure if I’ve eaten this or not, if I have it would have been in Europe because British chinese restaurants tend not to serve it20. Pistachio ice cream – yes – I’ll match your pistachio and raise you chili, black pepper flavoured, and cardomon (though not all at once)21. Heirloom tomatoes – yes – wasn’t any other kind where I grew up22. Fresh wild berries – yes – just last week, and am contemplating making rowan jelly if the berries aren’t over when I get back from my hols
23. Foie gras – yes – indefensible but irresistible
24. Rice and beans – yes25. Brawn or Head Cheese – yes – my Ma used to make it when I was a child26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper– no – I like hotter food than most, but I’m not actually stupid27. Dulce de leche – no – I’ve not eaten it, but only through lack of opportunity28. Oysters – yes
29. Baklava – yum30. Bagna cauda – no, surprisingly31. Wasabi peas – yes32. Clam Chowder in Soudough Bowl – no – again this is a North American dish33. Salted Lassi – yes, and it’s one of the few things I don’t really like, though I do love mango lassi34. Sauerkraut – yes35. Root beer float – puhlease. No. I’m not saying ‘never’ but my life is rich and full and varied without adding this to my list.36. Cognac – yes37. Clotted Cream Tea – yes38. Vodka Jelly/Jell-O – yes39. Gumbo – no, but only through lack of access40. Oxtail – yes, but not since BSE41. Curried goat – yes42. Whole insects – no, and I’d only eat them properly cooked43. Phaal – no – see note on item 26 – mind you, my view on what’s hot was formed in Bradford and Birmingham, so I do have high standards for heat44. Goat’s milk – yes – raised on it, since you ask45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth $120 or more – that’s sixty quid or so, isn’t it? Call it a yes, though I’m not fond of scotch46. Fugu (aka pufferfish) – no, this strikes me as being stunt food, like crocodile and insects and I’m only ok with stunt-food in the places where it comes from – it always seems like it tries too hard when it’s exported47. Chicken tikka masala – yes48. Eel – not sure, but probably not more than once49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut – no
50. Sea urchin – no, again this strikes me as being a stunt food51. Prickly pear – no access52. Umeboshi – very probably53. Abalone – no, but more through lack of chance than anything else54. Paneer – yes55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal – yes, actually maybe not the ‘meal’ since I don’t like the drinks56. Spaetzle – no57. Dirty gin martini – no, but mainly because I’d never heard of a dirty Martini though I loathe the smell of vermouth58. Beer above 8% ABV – no, I’m not fond of beer of any description, which suggests that the answer to whether I’ve tasted beer above 8% may in fact ‘yes’59. Poutine– no, but that would be worth emigrating for60. Carob chips – probably not61. S’mores– no, this is a tad culturally specific, doncha think62. Sweetbreads– probably no63. kaolin – no, we were a milk of magnesia household64. Currywurst – yes65. Durian – don’t think so66. Frogs’ legs – no, but they don’t turn up much in the UK, and there are better things to eat in France67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake – I’m calling this a ‘yes’ because I do eat ring donughts from fairs, and other fairground food, though all the examples given are specific to North America68. Haggis – yes, love it69. Fried plantain – yes, though it’s hard to find in northern Europe70. Chitterlings – not entirely sure, I think I may have had a mouthful once, if it’s what I think it was, then it was one of the few things I didn’t take to71. Gazpacho – yes72. Caviar and blini – not the real stuff73. Louche absinthe – no74. Gjetost or brunost – yes75. Roadkill – yes. Well, fox-kill, which I suspect counts. Carrion, anyway.76. Baijiu – no, but only because I’ve had very little chance77. Hostess Fruit Pie– no – they’re not available on this side of the Atlantic and I’m not a great eater of factory-made desserts78. Snails – yes
79. Lapsang Souchong – yes80. Bellini– no81. Tom Yum – yum yum
82. Eggs Benedict – yes83. Pocky – yes84. 3 Michelin Star Tasting Menu – no, dammit85. Kobe beef – no, again, this strikes me as a novelty item86. Hare– no, and with complete irrationality I consider hares too magical to eat87. Goulash – yes, it used to be my absolute standby when I had people round for a meal88. Flowers – yes89. Horse – not knowingly, though you never really know when you’re in France, do you? I’ve not avoided it.90. Criollo chocolate – no, though I do eat boutique chocolate91. Spam – yes92. Soft shell crab – no93. Rose Harissa – no94. Catfish – no95. Mole Poblano – no, but it sounds good96. Bagel and Lox – yes97. Lobster Thermidor – don’t think so, which slightly surprises me98. Polenta – yes99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee – no, coffee gives me stomach cramps100. Snake – no, and again that strikes me as a novelty item away from where it really is food

I’ve only eaten 49 of the 100, but then I’ve not travelled in North America, which is probably shown by the fact that I had to look up 36 items. Mind you, I’ve eaten 6 of the 36 I had to look up, so I’ll try things even if I don’t know what they are!

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“What books have changed how you think?” The one who asks me this sort of question asked me this the other day.

I don’t know if it’s a meme or not, but if it isn’t out there it damn well should be, so I’m asking Anticant, Charlotte, Hairy Farmer Family, Teuchter, Reed, SoRB, Sol, the Singing Librarian, whether they would like to consider this one, and share with us the books that have changed how and what they think. It’s an arduous process and an impertinent request, and I know that each of you are busy or pressured at the moment, so please ignore it if it’s not appropriate. And of course, anyone else who feels like it is more than welcome too.

Anyway, I asked him if he meant how (as in processes) or what (as in content) and he said “both really”. But the whole list is too long to bore you with in one session, so I’m splitting it in to two. I’ve listed the books in the order I read them.

Books that have changed how I think

Games People Play – Eric Berne– the whats, whys and hows of how we get stuck with the same old patterns of behaviour with strangers and with our nearest and dearest. My Ma read this when I was in my teens and promptly started playing more games rather then fewer. However after thirty or so years of trying, I am now reasonably good at not playing games, though not perfect by any means. This definitely changed my thinking processes, and it is a book I would recommend anyone to read today.

The Earthsea Trilogy – Ursula le Guin– I’m putting this in the “how” list rather than the “what” list because even though they are fantasies, these books helped me accept that reality isn’t cosy and reduced the amount of denial and surprise I go through. I still get shocked, but I’m less frequently surprised. Their impact has lingered and deepened over the years; Le Guin is one of the least self-indulgent writers I have ever read, and I guess these books introduced me to Kantian ideas about about responsibility, obligation and duty, you do what you do because that’s what you should do. I’m not really a Kantean at all but I try to out-stare reality even if it’s always me who blinks first and looks away.

Let’s Eat Right to Keep Fit – Adelle Davis – Davies points out that the devil is in the detail, when she calls one of her chapters “Which apricot, grown where?” in reference to the statement “apricots are a good source of Vitamin A”. The book itself is a collection of rather dated nutritional advice that I’d hesitate to recommend. However those four words kicked off a professional lifetime of listening out for what’s not said and poking around for data that isn’t there. It’s a phrase that definitely honed my thinking tools.

The Phoenix Seminar – Brian Tracey – a set of tapes and not a book, but this self-help course has given me the tools I use when I have to pick myself up, dust myself down, and start all over again. I still occasionally listen to these tapes even if I’m more sceptical about some of his approaches than I was at the time. There is a lot of sense here, and some powerful techniques.

NLP for Lazy Learning – Diana Beaver – I’ve undertaken various forms of NLP training and this was the book that introduced me to NLP in the first place. I feel very conflicted about NLP: it is cultish, anecdotal and subjective and everything I dislike with my critical thinking head on. But on the other hand NLP techniques have helped me learn presentation and public speaking, given me a whole bunch of linguistic tools, and taught me a lot of techniques I use at work in problem-solving and analysis. Diana Beaver is as clear-eyed and un-cultish as you would ever want, and this is a grounded and sane introduction to NLP. It’s wholesome and healthy even if it might become a gateway drug.

The British Medical Journal – Yeah, I know the BMJ’s not a book, you know the BMJ’s not a book, let’s move on from that, shall we? This is the first scientific journal I’ve read regularly, if intermittently, and it encouraged me in the habit that Ms Davis started of prodding information to see what it was made of and of going to the sources. It’s also a journal for generalists and is full of really ikky pictures. The ones of dental abcesses so bad they’d worn right through the cheek were particularly gross.

Eating Less – Gillian Riley – I’ve written this up elsewhere, but this book and Riley’s weekend course have helped me tackle my addictive eating. This book has changed how I think in a very literal way by tackling thoughts and habits right there where they occur, in the well-worn paths my synapses created in my brain. I strongly recommend this book if it is relevant to you.

The Tiger that Isn’t – Michael Blastland and Andrew Dilnot – an accessible introduction to how numbers are misreported by journalists and turned into lies by politicians. This book has given me tools to help with my habit of prodding statistics to see what gives. I’m not sure if its influence will last with me, but I certainly recommend it right now.

So we have the book that taught me how to be honest in my dealings with people, a set of tapes that helped me manage my emotions and the book tthat’s helping me control my addiction to food. On the thinking side, there are the books that taught me reality’s real, several that turned my insatiable curiousity into a tool, one that started me on a journey which enriched my linguistic and analysis skills, and one that I’m using to hone my numeracy.